Café Désolé
by Slash McSlash
Summary: AU. Welcome to The Hog’s Wart Café, where the bloke bussing your table is a werewolf, the chain-smoking waitress can break you like a plastic fork, the neighborhood stray is wanted for murder, and the ghost in the bathroom is luckless in love. SBRL, JPLE.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N: **Café Désolé, meaning approximately "Café of Sorrow", is a play on words from Café Du Soleil, which means "Café of Sunshine". I don't speak French except for these itty bitty bits of spare knowledge, so don't expect any more French in this story.

Be forewarned, this story is extremely AU! There are time jumps and discrepancies from the original story, and some hopefully justifiable OC behavior. Please note - Remus DOES NOT KNOW that his friends were animagi, but they DO KNOW that he is a werewolf. They are still wizards/witches, but unusual circumstances have landed them in a muggle lifestyle. Hopefully all confusion will be cleared up as I go along.

Café Désolé

by

Norikio Na No Da

**Chapter One**

**{1982}**

Remus was dragging the trash out into the alley beside the café when Lily posed her question.

"Why the fuck is it named 'The Hog's Wart', anyway?"

She cursed a lot these days.

She was sitting on a stack of overturned green plastic crates by the kitchen door and patting her pockets for a pack of cigarettes. When she found the pack she tilted it invitingly in her friend's direction, but he shook his head no, so she fished one cigarette out and slipped the rest back into her pocket. Her auburn hair caught the light of the lamp over the door, split-ended and frizzed from exhaustion, but still exceptionally beautiful. Even the heavy dark smudges under her eyes and the unhealthy, unhappy tint to her skin could not blot out the underlying beauty. Some people were just like that.

"I just don't understand why anyone would want to eat at a place with such an unsanitary name." Lily cupped one hand over the cigarette and flicked impatiently at her lighter until it sparked a red glow.

"Likely riding the coattails of Hogwarts _School," _Remus suggested.

"One would assume, except that the majority of our customers are muggles and therefore don't know anything about Hogwarts _School."_

"Well, then, I suppose it's meant to have a rustic sound," he said, leaning wearily against the wall beside her. "The sort of place manly blokes named Harold or Steve can take shots of hard liquor and pinch the bottoms of the waiting staff in passing."

"No one's pinched my bottom."

"Just mine, then."

He twitched his fingers towards her with a sigh of resignation and she handed him her cigarette. He took a long, deep drag on it before handing it back, then let white smoke curl up from his parted lips into the damp evening air, and watched it dissipate with disgust.

"You shouldn't have let me done that," he said. "I'd gone three days without a smoke."

"Well. I was getting lonely at day zero."

They sat in comfortable silence until the cigarette had burned nearly to its filter. The manager was out for the evening and had left the café in his two most reliable young waiters' hands, so of course they'd locked up an hour early and washed the dishes listening to the radio turned up at full volume in the kitchen. Remus would probably have felt guiltier about shirking his responsibilities if the full moon wasn't so near – once a prefect, always a prefect, as they say, even when one is bussing tables in a seedy café – but when the full moon approached he just couldn't be bothered to put the amount of care and discretion into his work as he usually did.

At last Lily stood. "Well, I'm gone," she said, holding out what was left of the cigarette to her companion. "Go on, finish up. You've already had a drag today. You can try quitting again tomorrow."

"Bloody self-help book, you are."

"Aren't I? Lock up when you go, Rem." She kissed him on the cheek. "And careful walking home."

The kitchen door clicked shut behind her.

There was nothing alluring about the half-cigarette she'd left behind, but he sucked on the end out of habit, hunched by the wall with his left arm curled against him to ward off chill. It was a warm night, but the days preceding and following his transformations had always left him tired and cold. He pushed light brown hair out of his eyes with the heel of his hand and peered down to the end of the alley.

A dog-shaped silhouette passed the opening.

Remus frowned and straightened up quickly. He supposed it was a little hypocritical to be wary of dogs, considering his monthly bouts of devolved dogginess, but stray animals wandering the city streets were bound to be carrying all sorts of infectious diseases. It was better to stay clear of them. He stubbed the cigarette out on the wall behind him and tossed the butt into a trashcan, then went inside to lock up and turn out the lights.

When he stepped out onto the sidewalk a few minutes later, the dog was sitting across the street watching him.

The creature looked equal parts dangerous and pathetic. It was large, wolfhound-large, but lean, and its dark fur was matted with filth. Muscled strength practically rippled under the neglected coat. Its eyes regarded him with interest, but it didn't look like it was going to attack him or approach him. Still, he kept it in the periphery of his vision as he locked the café door and started down the street for the bus stop. The dog made no move to follow, but was undoubtedly still watching him, following him with its eyes until he was around the corner. The relief of escaping its intense stare was almost palpable, and he let out a shaky breath as he sank down on the bus stop bench the next block over.

Odd that this was his life, now.

* * *

**{1977}**

**Hogwarts, Seventh Year**

Lily Evans slid into the seat next to his and, under the pretense of handing him a book, whispered keenly in his ear, "I want you to take me to the dance this Friday evening."

With an amused smirk he showed to a very select group of people, Remus said, "I don't know, Lily, what with my many, many girlfriends all vying for my attention. Do you think you could possibly compete?"

"Ah yes, but I'm your favorite, aren't I?"

His smirk relaxed into an honest smile. "James would never forgive me." He shook his head and opened the random book she had placed in front of him, an act of habit - some old, collected works of an overrated poet he didn't care for. Still he flicked through the pages. "He's already _barely_ on speaking terms with me because _I'm_ on speaking terms with _you_ and _he_ isn't. It sounds so very complicated, doesn't it...?"

"But it's for James' benefit that I ask you."

"Oh?"

"Well, of course the wanker's going to ask me to go to the dance," she elaborated, "and of course I'm going to tell him no." She turned towards him slightly on the library bench, curling one leg beneath her and looking conspiratorial. "If I said yes, then he would take me to the dance, and he wouldn't actually dance, would he? No boys dance at school dances unless they absolutely have to. And if he wants the honor of escorting me anywhere, he has to _work_ for it."

"Go on."

"I want to see James Potter _dance_ for my affections."

He laughed quietly. "Well if anyone's going to make James Potter dance - sober - it's going to be you."

"Right. So you will take me to the dance, and _he_ will put on one great bloody peacock display to win me over, and I will say - "

"'James Potter, you wanker, stop that this instant'." They said it as one.

" - and he will say something appropriately stupid, and I will sigh and make him dance a slow dance with me, but he'll think it was his idea all along, and he will wink at Sirius, and I will wink at you, and then he'll escort me back to the Common Room, whereupon he will kiss me on the cheek, like the gentleman I will train him to become if it takes me my whole life _so help me God,_ and we will say goodnight and part ways, and then...!" She clasped her hands together quietly, so that Madame Pince with her hypersensitive ears would not shush them from the other side of the library, then rocked back on the bench confidently. "I will have him. At no cost to myself, and no detriment to my dignity or my standing as a lady of power and authority in this school."

"Ingenious," he drawled. "What shall I tell him when he tries to punch me for taking his prospective girlfriend to the dance?"

"Oh, he wouldn't dare." She said it with utmost confidence that made him wonder. Then she took his hand in hers. "Please, Remus? You won't even have to dance, being my date and all."

"Well...alright. I'll have to cancel my other plans. Denise, Karen, Beryl, Candice and Alice will all be shattered. But you _are, _as you say, my favorite girl."

She squealed softly, with the kind of eloquence that most girls can't muster while squealing. "Thank you, thank you! You're truly an angel. I'll expect you at the foot of the girls' dormitory stairs, Friday evening, looking handsome and polished as always." She stood up and kissed his cheek, radiating happiness. "I'm off. And by the by, Remus..." She leaned in and whispered this last bit in his ear. "Sirius is watching you."

He didn't see her scuttle out the library door, preoccupied as he was with turning to catch a glimpse of Sirius; Sirius, who, at a distance, looked away hastily, and accidentally knocked a study group's pile of research texts over in his haste. Sirius helped the students stack the books back up again, then glanced up and waved breezily at Remus, as though just _happening_ to spot him in the library and offhandedly saying hello.

Remus waved back and looked down at his book of bad poetry, smiling.

* * *

**{1982}**

Lily didn't glow anymore. Or squeal. Or smile, all that much. And neither did he.

But Remus didn't realize that Sirius was still watching him.

* * *

**TBC...**

**A/N: **I hope you've enjoyed it so far! (And kindly let me know if you did!)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine. Ask me again tomorrow.

**Chapter Two**

**{1982}**

Sirius Black's skin had once been smooth and flawless. His hands had been especially beautiful. Scions of the Black family legacy couldn't be bothered with the sort of menial tasks that put scars on most people's bodies. God forbid one should develop a _callus._

But the padded feet for which Padfoot got his name had long since grown cracked and abused from many days of wandering over rough English countryside and now city pavement. His dark fur had grown long and tangled, and he was pretty sure he smelled badly both as a canine and a human. But he was never human long enough to care how he smelled as one.

That didn't stop James from complaining.

"It's been, what, three weeks since your last proper wash? And that was in a nasty campground shower. I beg of you, Sirius, take a _bath. _The city's less likely to call pest control on you if you don't smell like a bag of shit. I mean, _I_ can't smell you, but if I could, I don't think it'd be roses, mate."

Padfoot shook himself as he walked, as though to shake off the annoying presence. But James' steps matched his perfectly, and his talking was endless. There was no need even to pause to catch a breath, because James had no need for breath anymore, or to dodge out of another person's way on the crowded sidewalk, because he walked right through them – or rather, _they_ walked right through _him. _Although, every now and then, someone would glance into a polished shop window and see the reflection of a thin, messy-haired, bespectacled young man walking alongside that of a black dog – then turn, and see the black dog walk by, but no man. Few people were attentive enough to notice this discrepancy, but if they did, the dog was gone, disappeared into the crowd, by the time they'd turned for another look.

_"It's a bit like that game in the Prophet, for kids: 'what's wrong with this picture?'"_ was how James liked to put it.

"Really, mate. Duck into a chain store bathroom or something," the ghost only Sirius could see or hear continued to complain.

Padfoot growled a little in frustration, but altered course, dodging between scant traffic towards the gas station across the street. He padded up to the bathroom door, which looked grimy and disgusting and was built into the left side of the building. Sounds of flushing inside made him scuttle around the corner to hide, but as soon as the door opened, he dashed out, slipped past the man exiting the bathroom, and slid inside just before the door snapped back shut.

He waited for a moment to see if the man would yank the door open and shoo him outside, but nothing happened. So with the familiar shift of transformation, he became a man again, sitting sprawled on the cheap linoleum floor. Springing to his feet, he locked the door, flicked on the light switch, and leaned heavily against the bathroom sink. For some reason it felt like a struggle to tilt his face towards the moldy old mirror.

He looked horrible.

Still a handsome bugger, naturally. It was just hard to remember that bugger under all the sweat and dirt and dishevelment. His hair was too long, hanging greasily past his shoulders. It reminded him shudderingly of Snivellus. James must have been thinking the same thing, because he looked into the mirror over Sirius' shoulder and made the face he used to make only when Snape entered the vicinity.

"It's alright, mate," he said. "Just splash some water on your face and you'll look and feel loads better."

"I will, will I?" Sirius' voice was croaky from disuse. He didn't have much opportunity to be human anymore, so James had been doing enough talking for both of them recently. "That's got to be magical water, then, 'cos I feel like crap."

"Well. You should also maybe wring your shirt out in the sink." James shrugged at the annoyed look Sirius gave him. "Just a suggestion. Don't frown so much, mate. You'll start to look like – "

"_Don't_ – say it. I know. I know." He took a deep breath, then pulled off his torn and dirty shirt to bundle over the drain. Turning on the faucet and allowing the sink to fill up with water, he scrubbed the shirt with the bar of soap in a little ceramic holder, then scrubbed the soap under his arms and over his neck and shoulders. The water felt good on his hands and divine on his face, dripping down his jaw-line and washing the filth away. It was cold, it was sparing, but it made him feel cleaner. He almost remembered feeling truly _clean._

James sat on the closed toilet lid behind him and hummed the Star Wars theme. This was not so far-flung from days not so long ago.

But he still couldn't believe that there had been a time when showering was a communal experience, and one he'd looked forward to for several reasons.

* * *

**{1977}**

**Hogwarts, Seventh Year**

"My head is saying, 'fool, forget hiiiim' – "

"Sirius!"

"My heart is saying, 'don't let go-o-ooo' – "

"SIRIUS! I swear to God!"

"I'm not the first to know, there's just no getting over you-oo-oo…"

"If you don't shut up I'm going to come over there – "

"I'm hopelessly devotehhhhed to you-ooo-ooooo…"

_" – and smash your skull against the tile 'til we all have to shower twice to get the blood off!"_

Sirius jerked the shower curtain open and leaned his head out to smirk at his hapless friend in the next stall over. James never pulled the curtain completely shut, because that impeded showertime conversation, and everyone suspected he just enjoyed getting the floor sopping wet so that people would slip and break their necks in the dead of night; or at least, so that Remus would stand in the dormitory doorway and lecture them all on how easily he could have slipped and broken his neck in the dead of night. "Now, Jamesie, methinks you're just a little sore that you didn't get a date to the dance tonight."

"No, _actually,_ Sirius, I want you to shut up because you're a godawful singer and no one should be subjected to this torture!"

Sirius frowned in mock-offense. "Well, I'm not _that _bad. Am I, Moony?" he asked the properly-drawn shower curtain to his right.

"The quality of your singing is debatable, Sirius, but you _have_ screwed up the order of the verses pretty badly."

Good old dependable Moony.

This statement was followed by sullen silence, brought on - Sirius knew - by the fact that James was enraged at Remus for agreeing to take Lily to the dance that night, and that Remus did not want to provoke James' wrath by forcing conversation. Sirius stood, half under the spray of the shower head, and half leaning out of his stall to glance between those of his two closest friends on either side of him.

After a moment's consideration, he pulled his head back in, only to twist off the spray and leap out a moment later, singing at the top of his lungs.

"THERE'S NOOOOWHERE TO HIDE, SINCE YOU PUSHED MY LOVE ASIDE!"

He ripped open James' shower curtain, and, ignoring the scandalized howl of his naked best friend, pulled him, slipping and sliding, onto the main floor of the bathroom. "SIRIUS, YOU MADMAN, I'LL KILL YOU!"

"I'M OUUUUUT OF MY HEAD, HOPELESSLY DEVOTEEHHHHED TO YOUUU-OO-OO-OOO!" Sirius struggled to maintain his grip on his equally feisty and determined friend as he twirled him around the bathroom in a forced, nonconsensual waltz. "HOPELESSLY DEVOTEEHHHHED TO YOUUU-OO-OOOOO!"

Remus finally made an appearance, popping his head into the open to frown disapprovingly at the two boys tussling in front of the showers. His hair was darker when wet, and water rolled down his bangs and made graceful arcs along the fine bones around his eyes. Sirius always noticed when Remus was wet.

"Sirius, let the poor man go," he scolded.

James bristled indignantly, scowling in the approximate direction of the young lycanthrope (which was difficult, because Sirius was still spinning him and his vision was truly crap without his glasses on). "I don't need help from you, you traitor!" He punctuated the last bit by stomping his heel down hard on Sirius' naked toes. Sirius released him with a howl of pain, whereupon James stormed back to his shower, dripping soapy lather and water as he went. They had left a trail of the stuff in their wake as they had danced.

"James! James, don't be unreasonable!" Remus shouted along to the boy two stalls over. "I know you're upset, but Lily asked _me, _not the other way around. It would have been rude not to say yes!"

"No, it would have been _rude_ not to tell your fellow Marauders about this development outright," James shouted back, "and instead leave them to pick it up on the Gryffindor grapevine!"

Sirius winced at the harsh tone of James' voice. He knew well the sting of learning unpleasant information on the Gryffindor grapevine. The Gryffindor grapevine was a bitch.

Remus rolled his eyes and drew back into his shower. But he was not safely back under the spray for long before Sirius decided that another must take the place of his forfeited dance partner. The taller, darker-haired boy pushed past the plastic barrier and seized Remus around the wrist, yanking him out into the communal area easily, though of course he had the element of surprise on his side.

Remus stumbled over the low threshold of the shower stall and then hydroplaned, smack, into Sirius' chest. Which left them more or less aligned in every other part of their very naked bodies, as well.

It took a moment for Sirius to realize how stupid a move this had been.

"Um, oops," he said. Silence ensued.

"Indeed," said Remus. "I think the words you're looking for are, 'Hopelessly devoted'..."

He trailed off, matching Sirius' gaze exactly, and though he did look a little surprised, Sirius couldn't help but admire how calm and collected, even wry, Remus had managed to stay despite the uncomfortable circumstances.

They stared pointedly into each other's eyes, to avoid having to look at other parts of each other's anatomy. That would have been unwise, under said uncomfortable circumstances.

"'Hopelessly devoted'," Remus said again, voice clearly prompting. Sirius twitched a little in surprise.

"Oh, that is - to you. 'Hopelessly devoted to you'."

"That's right." Remus stepped back, removing his hands quickly from Sirius's. Was it his imagination, or was there a little sucking noise when their chests separated? The awkwardness only continued a few moments more, before Remus added, "I'd love to teach you the rest of the lyrics so you can butcher the song properly, Sirius, but I do have quite a lot of shampoo in my hair I'd like to wash out."

"Yes - me too."

They retreated to the safety behind their own respective shower curtains. Now there was silence in all three stalls, though while James' was still sulky, the silence from both Remus' and Sirius' stalls was a different sort. Happier and more humiliated. Sirius smacked his head lightly against the wall a couple times and thought he heard Remus do the same. Then he stood washing the rest of his body and smiling like a lunatic, and though of course he could not hear it, he thought he could imagine Remus doing the same.

When they stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, safely swathed in towels, Sirius said lightheartedly, "You blokes will regret turning down Sirius's Special Shower Room Dance Practice once you see me cutting a rug out there tonight!"

"I pity the girls who agree to dance with you," muttered James, rubbing another towel over his hair.

Remus smirked as he passed Sirius on the way to his trunk at the foot of his bed. "And do ask their permission first, won't you?"

* * *

**{1982}**

"How d'you think she looked?"

Sirius was drawn from his reminiscence by his faithful ghost's uncharacteristically quiet voice. He glanced over his shoulder in the mirror and saw James sitting, cross-legged now, on the toilet seat, hands folded loosely in his lap.

There was no point asking who he meant. There was only one "she" when it came to James Potter.

"Good." Sirius rinsed the soap from his shirt and then wrung it as dry as he could over the sink. "She looked great."

"She looked awful."

"Well, yes. But if I said your wife looked awful, I expect you'd punch me in the gut." He paused, considering the logic of this statement, and then amended it with, "Well, you'd try to."

James ignored him. "She was all sallow and sad, and she was _smoking. _When did Lily start _smoking? _She hates that sort of stuff."

"Things happen, mate. People change."

"Don't I know it. Rem was smoking, too. Of all people, Lily and Remus! And working at a muggle café, at that. People change, all right." James sighed, staring down at his semi-transparent hands. "I wish they wouldn't."

"They didn't change all that much, James." It wasn't often that Sirius played the comforter in their relationship; not before, and certainly not now that it had become so unusual, so strained and paranormal. "They stuck together, didn't they? That counts for something."

James allowed half a smile to quirk the corner of his lips. "I suppose. Like we did, eh?"

"That's right." Sirius dragged the shirt on over his head, and didn't bother to mention that, in this situation, their sticking together had nothing to do with their choosing. It still had to count for something.

* * *

**TBC...**

**A/N:** Yes, I know "Hopelessly Devoted To You" was released one year after Sirius is singing it in this story, but please, for my frazzled Muse's sake, bend reality a little, won't you? And also, I took a few liberties with the design of the Gryffindor boys' bathroom. I simply can't remember the way it was described in the book, and anyway, this way is more conducive to my plot. So...screw canon! Um.

I can't thank you guys enough for the last chapter's reviews! They made me happy. X3 So please continue to let me know what you think so far. R/R much loved!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Unlike many talented authors, I can't come up with very interesting ways to say I don't own what I'm writing about. :(

**Chapter Three**

**{1982}**

Lily didn't come in on time the next day, but this was nothing new. Being a single mother was a full-time occupation, but so was being a full-time waitress, and so, despite her attempts to handle everything in her life independently and efficiently, she needed quite a lot of help, and quite a lot of slack. The nanny she paid to watch Harry from nine to five every day (except on the days they were assigned evening hours, in which case the nanny would also have to shift her schedule) wasn't winning any awards. On the days that the nanny came late, Lily did, too, refusing to leave her son alone in the apartment for even a moment (although Remus suspected the nanny did all the time).

So Remus covered for her. It wasn't easy, balancing two trays and rushing from table to table as quickly as possible to keep everyone happy, fed, and refilled, but he knew she did the same for him on the days he took off due to full moon related injury or illness.

People in their situation had to take care of each other.

"Flynn!"

Remus stopped short at the harsh voice, suppressed a roll of his eyes, and stood at attention. Mr. Dolohov, his much-despised superior (inferior only to the manager himself), strode across the café towards him, pale face twisted in a scowl, as was often the case. He planted himself in front of his employee, hands on his hips. "Mr. Flynn, where is Miss Thatcher?"

They had picked each other's aliases in an attempt to insert some humor into their lives.

"Taking care of her son, I expect, sir," he said, shifting a tray from his right arm to his left and picking an empty plate up in his free hand.

Dolohov leaned forward, sneering. "Taking care of her son on _my_ time?"

"I'm afraid she's got a rather unreliable nanny, sir."

"An unreliable nanny for an unreliable waitress, then."

"If you say so, sir." There was no use trying to defend Lily to Dolohov, who had a low opinion of them both, because the manager was almost openly infatuated with Lily, and liked Remus well enough. As long as they stayed in the manager's good graces, there was little that Dolohov could do to them.

Except, perhaps, order them around a lot.

"Go get these people their orders and then wipe down tables four, eight and fifteen! You'd better hope that Thatcher arrives before the lunch rush, because I doubt you have the capacity to handle the lunch crowd by yourself."

"Yes, sir." Remus waited until Dolohov had stormed out of earshot before adding, "And thanks for the vote of confidence."

When noon arrived, Lily still had not. Remus wiped down the tables, as instructed, diligently flitted between them, endured catcalls and bottom-pinching from various horny older men and younger girls, watered the plants in front of the café, and set to work mopping the kitchen. He was not the only waiter on duty, but the others were mostly Muggle teenagers, who, needless to say, were nowhere near as efficient as he was at getting the job done, even without the use of his magic.

Magic was not something he was at liberty to use anymore, as per Dumbledore's specific instructions.

* * *

**{1981}**

**Order of the Phoenix Headquarters**

"_It is not safe for either of you here, among wizarding society."_

Dumbledore had spoken the words as he knelt before them; Remus holding tight to Lily, whose body jerked and twisted with violent sobs. Remus himself was silent and still as the eye of the storm, staring up at the Order's founder with open plea in his face for Dumbledore to guide, to comfort, to reassure that what had just happened hadn't really happened. Dumbledore lay a hand on his shoulder, but there was not much he could do in the way of comfort.

_"I can help you disappear. You will be safe if you slip into obscurity in the Muggle world. Voldemort knows who you are and will want to find you. I have no doubts that Sirius Black will also be looking for you."_

Remus tightened his hold unconsciously on the sobbing redhead.

"_I will find you a place to live. I will set up a life for you. You cannot use magic or reveal your identities to anyone but those most trustworthy. Representatives of the Order will be sent to check on you." _His long, thin hand moved to the back of Lily's head. _"Of course if you still wish to fight, I cannot force you to hide. Indeed, I would almost expect you to want to continue in your loved ones' stead. But you must remember that you are not living only for yourselves, anymore."_

Lily stopped sobbing abruptly. She slowly disentangled herself from Remus' arms, and although tears continued to form along the rims of her red eyelids, her expression was stonily composed.

"Harry," she said.

"_Harry."_ Dumbledore nodded gravely.

Lily ran her hands down to Remus' forearms, and turned slowly to look at him. They had a silent conference with their eyes, then turned back to Dumbledore together.

"Alright, sir," said Remus. "We'll do it."

* * *

**{1982}**

That had been nearly a year ago, and Remus would be lying to himself if he said he had not felt every day crawl by under the weighty responsibility of caring for Lily and Harry and not simply giving in as he had wanted to since that fateful night. But Remus, despite his gentle, soft-spoken demeanor, was a fighter - always had been. Somewhere deep down he knew that carrying on was all he really _could_ do.

Magic was very tempting at the moment, though. It might have been the lunch rush, but his own lunch break was not for another hour, and there would be no opportunity to slack off like he had last night, under Dolohov's critical eye. He was also becoming more worried about Lily as the day progressed. It wasn't uncommon for her to be late, but for her to be as late as this was an anomaly.

Had something happened? His stomach clenched. Had something happened to Harry? His stomach clenched tighter.

He took a steadying breath, and bent to pick up the bucket of now dirty water he had been using to mop the floor. There was no sense getting anxious. He would drop by Lily's apartment for his break and check on her. Until then, he had to keep working, for both their sakes.

He moved awkwardly to the kitchen's side door, water sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the bucket as he shuffled along. Once outside, he hauled back and then tossed the bucket's contents across the shaded pavement.

There came the obvious splatter, and then, inexplicably, a yelp. Remus jumped at the sound, eyes widening in alarm.

A large black shape stumbled out from the line of trash cans, dripping dirty water and whining offendedly. It was only a couple yards from where Remus stood before he recognized it as the dog that had been watching him so intently the night before. "Oh my God." He dropped the bucket with a reverberating bang and stepped back, nervously, into the doorway. The dog had been harmless last night, giving him a wide berth and showing no signs of confrontation, but he couldn't say it would have the same disposition now that he'd thrown a bucket of mop water on it.

With a shake of its body, the dog managed to spray water across the brick walls on either side of the alley. Upon spotting Remus, however, it froze just as suddenly as he had upon spotting it. For a few moments there was only mutual stillness as they matched each other's stares; Remus prepared to bolt if the dog so much as growled.

But the dog didn't growl. Its ears perked forward, and its tail began to slowly, cautiously swing back and forth, as if Remus had just produced a t-bone and laid it on the pavement. After a moment it trotted forwards, stopped, trotted forwards slightly more, and stopped again, appearing to gauge Remus' reaction with every tentative –

"Flynn!"

A transformation came over the dog with incredible swiftness. Its ears went back, its hackles rose, and even the pale eyes seemed to gleam with anger. A low, dangerous, rumbling sound filled the alley. Remus turned to run inside and nearly ran into Dolohov's enormous chest instead, which was blocking his way. The fury in his boss's eyes almost matched the fury in the dog's, and Remus wasn't sure which one he wanted to distance himself from more. Until Dolohov wrapped his large hand around Remus' wrist and squeezed hard enough to hurt. (The dog began to snarl.) Then he knew.

"Flynn, there are customers out there waiting to be waited on! What are you doing in the fucking alley? I swear, if I find you and Thatcher have been sneaking smokes out here during working hours again, I... is...is that your dog?"

Remus blinked dumbly for a few seconds before the words registered themselves in his mind. "Uh, no, it's not. I think it's a stray."

Dolohov stiffened in - yes, it had to be - fear. "Good God. This city's going to shit! Stray animals snarling at you at every corner... Get inside and call animal control!"

But Remus was staring at the dog again, a strange, familiar warm feeling curling in his stomach. He couldn't explain it, why this dog was suddenly so fascinating to him.

"Flynn!" Dolohov twisted his arm slightly, rattling him back and forth.

The dog barked, a gunshot sound that made Remus flinch and made Dolohov release him and back away. It continued to bark and snarl, inching forwards, until Dolohov swore, spun on his heel, and slammed the kitchen door shut behind him. Leaving Remus alone with the beast.

The barking ceased instantly, though it took a while longer for the fur to flatten and the creature's taut muscles to relax. Remus remained frozen against the door, but it wasn't exactly with fear that he was frozen. It was more like spotting something unbelievable in the distance, and not being able to move or think or rationalize at the sight of it. Which was ridiculous, of course. What was so unbelievable about a stray dog in an alleyway?

It moved closer again, tail wagging more enthusiastically now, and, after a moment's seeming hesitation, it bumped its nose against Remus' hand. Cold and wet, it made him gasp, but then the dog moved its muzzle under Remus' fingers and simply stood there, tail thumping wildly, making soft whining sounds of happiness.

Remus finally found his voice, though God only knew what he might do with it. "Um, hello." He tentatively rested his hand on the animal's head. When there was no resistance to the action, he scratched lightly at the junction between ear and skull. "I don't...have any treats. Er."

The dog turned and repositioned itself against him, leaning against his legs as though asking to be scratched on the back. The creature's back was nearly level with his belt buckle, so this was not difficult. As he stood awkwardly rubbing his hand along the curve of the dog's spine, Remus felt the last of his fear seep out of him, slowly but surely, until all that was left was bewilderment. How often did stray animals in the city wander up to people and demand to be petted? It was a little unnerving, but no longer frightening. The dog clearly trusted him, for whatever reason, and he couldn't help but to... trust it back.

He found himself thankful that he had been left with the dog rather than his boss - it was truly the lesser of two evils.

Thinking of his boss, he groaned. The dog looked up, ears perking. "You'll have to go, now," he said. "My boss, see, he'll phone animal control, or he'll get a butcher's knife and come out here, swinging."

A soft growl emitted from the dog once more. Remus was strangely not intimidated at all. "No, really," he insisted. "He's not a happy man. Either way, you can't stay here. Go on."

The dog merely cocked its head at him, stubbornly not moving.

"Look. I have to get back to work. Dolohov's already pissed off." Why on earth was he explaining this to a dog? "If you don't want to leave, fine, wait around for the dog catcher or worse. But I have to go. And I suggest you do the same."

He paused, and added, "I'm sorry for dumping that water on you." Then he turned and twisted the knob of the door, leaning his shoulder against it to force it open, because it tended to stick when it was slammed.

By the time he'd popped it open and turned to shoo the dog a final time, the large, shadowed figure was already at the end of the alley, slipping into white daylight, and out of sight.

Remus went back to work feeling strangely safer.

* * *

**TBC...**

**A/N: Again, thankee for the wonderful reviews. I'm somewhat pulling this out of my ass as I go along, but I'll try to be more reasonable with my updates than I have...been known to be in the past.**

**That said, I will warn you, I'm taking a trip to China very shortly and will definitely be unable to update during that time (two weeksish?). I'll try to make it up to you later, with angst and love, and, if I can manage it, some humor.**

**Who knows, though, I might be able to get in a couple more chapters before I leave.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter, which I do not, I would probably go mad with power, which I probably have anyway.

**Chapter Four**

**{1982}**

Unbelievable. Even as his paws carried him swiftly away from the café, Padfoot could feel the soothing hands of his former lover stroking his fur, an echo of countless soft touches throughout the years. He had gone to see Remus, certain that the sight of the man would be a relief, and it had been. But being so close, so close that he could _touch_ Remus and that Remus touched him back, it had been so –

" – mindblowing, man." James might have been talking for a while, but Sirius had been too caught up in his excitement to listen. "I mean, do you think he knows? He can't know. But that's a hell of a coincidence if…you don't think he's in danger?"

Padfoot stopped short and looked up at the ghost, alarmed. James rolled his eyes when he realized that the animagus hadn't the slightest clue what he was talking about.

"Dolohov," he said.

Right. Dolohov.

Shit.

He'd been so carried away with the sensation of having Remus near him again that he had forgotten the glaringly obvious fact that Remus was working alongside a Death Eater.

Merlin only knew how long Remus had been wiping floors and taking orders directly under Antonin Dolohov's nose, but Sirius could tell Remus wasn't aware of the man's Death Eater status. Hell, Sirius and James had only just become aware of the fact on the night when, well — when their lives went to shit. (Or in James' case, when his life ended altogether.) No doubt the rest of the Order knew by now, but Lily and Remus had been in hiding for a year, and probably hadn't been updated on the list of who _not_ to be left alone and unarmed with.

Padfoot whipped around to go back, but James leapt in his way. Of course, being that he was a ghost, he couldn't have stopped him, but Padfoot stopped nonetheless — running _through_ his dead best friend wasn't a feeling he relished.

"Don't be a prat, Sirius, you can't go back now. Dog catchers are probably going to be swarming the place inside of an hour. What we need to do now is _lie low,_ if only for a few hours. Remus is clever, he can handle himself that long."

Sirius was loathe to admit it, but James was right. They'd been wandering the area for so long, searching for Remus and Lily, that Dolohov couldn't have been the only person to phone animal control upon seeing the massive black dog. Hiding was a good idea. And it would only be until Remus left the café.

As if reading his mind, James added, "We can follow him when he goes home, alright? That way we can scope out where he lives." He ran a ghostly hand through his hair and added, "And where Lily and Harry are, too, I hope. I mean, it only makes sense they'd live together, right?"

Padfoot gave him a look, which James seemed to understand, because he said, "Right, stupid Jim. Why would they leave the café separately last night if they lived together. Right." He sighed and then added, in his own defense, "If you're allowed to marginally flip out over seeing your boyfriend again, I think I'm entitled to flip out over my wife and son, okay?"

Padfoot snorted, an incredibly human sound, and trotted down the street in search of a good hiding spot which would still present a decent view of the café. James hadn't always been so quick to call Remus his "boyfriend". As a matter of fact, not too long ago he'd been quite the skeptic on the matter.

Then again, thought Padfoot as he slunk under the raised porch of a townhouse across and down the street from the café, and James crawled unnecessarily after him on his hands and knees - perhaps James had been the first to see potential where Sirius had once only been afraid to.

* * *

**{1977}**

**Hogwarts, Seventh Year**

"I don't know what to tell you, mate."

James looked, frankly, like he could cut a bitch. "What to _tell me?_ I'll tell you what to tell me! Tell me if I should give her fucking baby's breath or fucking bluebells, you fucking wanker!"

"Language," said Remus softly from the mirror, where he was adjusting the collar of his old but clean white button-down shirt. It was not so formal a dance as some they had been to over the years, and didn't necessitate dress robes, which was something every male student in Hogwarts had breathed a sigh of relief over. Still, it was to be a _nice_ dance, and they were expected to come dressed accordingly.

"Shut it, Lupin! I'm trying to have a civil conversation with Sirius, here." So James was evidently still upset with Remus. "Now make a fucking decision, Sirius, before I eat both these bloody corsages and choose the one I shit first as a default!"

Sirius, who was lounging on his bed, already dressed but looking charmingly ruffled, suppressed a laugh. Laughing at James when he was in cut-a-bitch mode was not a good idea.

"James. Look at me," he said. "You need to calm down."

James glared, took a deep breath, and pushed both hands through his hair. The baby's breath was around his left wrist and the bluebells around his right. "Okay. Alright. I know. But honestly, how can you expect me to be_ calm _when the very future of my relationship with Lily may hinge on what type of corsage I give her tonight?"

"I doubt it, mate." Sirius rolled onto his stomach. "First of all," he said, holding out one hand flat, "she's not going to the dance with you, so giving her a _corsage _would be a pretty obnoxious thing to do. Secondly - " He paused, other hand outstretched, and after a moment, said, "Well, secondly, I don't know why you're so worked up about whether Evans likes you or not in the first place, to be honest."

He saw Remus' reflection wince in the mirror.

James stammered inarticulately for a few moments before finally exclaiming, "You'll get yourself bloody worked up, too, when you fall madly in love with a beautiful woman who doesn't spare you the time of day, Sirius, and when that happens don't look to _me _for advice, because I'm sick of hearing, 'Oh, James is being a git again', 'Oh, time to get the hose, James has spotted Evans', and 'Oh, James, don't carve Lily's likeness into bars of soap and leave them at the bottom of the girls' dormitory stairs, she doesn't like it'! No, when it happens to _you,_ I'll simply stand there and laugh my arse off, Sirius Black!"

This was quite the mouthful, and Sirius and Remus stared at their slightly deranged roommate in awe.

Tentatively, Sirius said, "I still don't get the big deal."

James could have exploded. He really could have. But instead he sagged limply onto the mattress alongside Sirius and stared at him miserably out of half-shut eyes. "You've really never gone nuts over a bird before, mate?"

"Happily, no."

_"Really?"_

"Really, Jimmy-boy. Look." Sirius carefully plucked one corsage from James' wrist and held it up demonstratively. "Girls are like flowers."

James raised an eyebrow.

"No, honestly. They're like flowers. They're pretty. They look great on your arm." He snapped the corsage onto his wrist and batted his eyelashes in a fair imitation of a girl on her way to prom. Remus stifled a laugh over by the mirror. "Hell, they even smell good. But I do _not_ want to have sex with one."

"What?" James sat up, scandalized, and snatched the corsage from his friend's grasp. "Of course I don't want to have sex with a flower, you perverted arse. That's ridiculous. Women aren't _flowers."_

"To me, they might as well be," said Sirius wryly.

Remus interrupted James before he could further protest. "It's not a perfect comparison, but it is an astute observation," he said, crossing to the bed and sitting down on the opposite side of Sirius from James. "Considering flowers are essentially inter-pollinating uteri."

Sirius and James stared at him with undisguised horror.

"What? It's, it's biology. I thought we were talking about...biology." Seeing that he was losing them, Remus added, "Anyway, I can understand Sirius' sentiment."

"Not you, too, mate," moaned James. His depression lasted all of five seconds before he realized the implication. "Wait, so you...you don't like birds?"

Remus' blush belied the casual shrug of his shoulders. "Not sexually, no. I'm not attracted to women."

"...So you don't want to jump Lily's bones."

Remus coughed at the bluntness of the question, while Sirius flopped onto his side laughing. "Merlin, _no,_ James! She's my _friend!"_

James sighed in relief, and the dark atmosphere of the room lightened.

Still, he was somewhat serious when he said, "So you two...you're both...?"

Remus rubbed the back of his neck while Sirius shrugged lazily. "Yeah," they said together.

"...Have you ever...you know...together...?"

Both boys froze up so suddenly that James laughed. "I'll take that as a yes."

"No! That's a no!" Sirius barked violently, and Remus flinched a little. "I mean," said Sirius, turning now to see the mildly hurt expression on Remus' face. "I mean, that's not to say - "

"No, that's alright, Sirius." Remus turned to James gravely. There was just a hint of frost to his voice. "He had it right, James; a most emphatic _no."_

"Moony," Sirius protested.

"Now if you'll excuse me." Remus stood up and pulled on his dark blazer, primly adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves as he made his way to the door. "Unlike the two of you, I have a _date."_

Sirius winced at the sound of the dormitory door slamming shut. When he turned to James, hoping for a sympathetic smile, all he got was a shit-eating grin.

"Tell you what, mate, whichever corsage I decide to go with, you can give the other to Moony."

But both corsages were tragically crushed in the ensuing battle.

* * *

**{1982}**

In the time it took to walk from the café to Lily's apartment, Remus had turned the day's events over in his head more thoroughly than before, and decided that what had happened in the alley had been really, really creepy.

When he rang the doorbell, Lily called out immediately that she would "be right there", yet it was almost five minutes before she answered the door. He thought he heard a yelp and a few loud clangs in the background.

"Lily," he said coolly, when she appeared. "The bloody Hound of the Baskervilles accosted me in an alley. Would you care to tell me what exciting thing happened to _you_ today?" He walked past her, into the apartment, and then stood in the mudroom with his arms folded expectantly. "Perhaps the thing that necessitated skipping work?"

"Two things, actually." She smiled apologetically, and gestured over her shoulder into the other room. "What was that you said about a hound?"

"Never mind. I'll tell you later." There was an audible clanking coming from the living room, some low-pitched cursing, and the sound of Harry giggling. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry I left you to fend off Dolofucker alone today, Remus, but I had unexpected visitors…" She lowered her voice as they entered the room, "…and I don't trust them on their own."

Two redheaded men – though their hair was more of a fiery, orangish hue than Lily's, which was a veritable dark _red_ red – looked up upon their entrance. They were sitting on the floor, apparently fiddling with the radiator, while Harry sat between them, with a delighted expression on his face. They were identical in every way, except for their clothes and the fact that one of them, now that Remus looked closer at exactly what they were doing, appeared to have his hand stuck in the grill of the radiator.

"No need to be suspicious, Potter," one of the men said.

"Evans," corrected the one with the radiator problem.

"'Thatcher'," corrected Remus, ever conscious of who they were supposed to be.

"_Lily,"_ said Lily reasonably. "And yes, I think there _is_ quite a reason to be suspicious, Fabian – "

"Gideon."

" – _Gideon, _considering I left you alone for five minutes while going to answer the door and you managed to get part of your body caught in a household appliance."

"Wait, I am Fabian," said the one with his hand caught. "I thought you were talking to him."

"Why the hell would she be talking to _me,_ when you're the one who's gotten himself incapacitated?" snapped the other, presumably Gideon.

"Well, I didn't _know_ she was talking to _me,_ now did I?"

"From now on, assume that I'm talking to both of you." Lily rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly, then gestured towards Remus. "This is Remus Lupin, aka 'Remus Flynn', should a Muggle come through my door any time soon. Remus, this is Fabian and Gideon Prewett, of the Order, as you well know."

"Yes. We've met." Remus moved closer, peering with increasing concern at the dilemma. "Are you…alright? I mean, doesn't that hurt?"

"If the brouhaha he was making earlier is anything to go by, then yes," said Gideon.

Lily shook her head and sighed. "He's probably been burned. But we've turned off the heat and used some…palliative charms on his hand."

"I can't feel my whole right arm," said Fabian cheerfully.

Gideon patted his brother on the shoulder. "We couldn't find his hand, naturally, so we just targeted the whole 'problem area'."

He flashed a thumbs-up at Harry, who happily returned the gesture. Remus felt a flare of pride for the young boy, who was showing excellent motor skills for a two-year-old; but then, this was the same boy who supposedly levitated his father's glasses to the top of their bedroom wardrobe when he was less than six months old, causing James to search high and low for them for hours until finally conceding to Lily's logic that there is no point searching for something when you can hardly see past your nose. Then again, James might have just been an idiot and misplaced his glasses, but Remus wouldn't have put it past the talented little Harry Potter to accomplish something so impressive at such a young age. (Then again, he also wouldn't have put it past James to leave his glasses somewhere so ridiculous as at the top of his bedroom wardrobe.)

Remus shook himself hard and tried to focus on the matter at hand. Not thinking about the wonderful people you've lost is an excellent way to avoid thinking about the other wonderful people you've lost. He'd made an art out of not thinking about Sirius Black.

"Well, now that there's a competent male in the vicinity over the age of two," said Lily, "maybe we can accomplish something."

_"I_ suggested just taking the metal monster apart," said Gideon haughtily.

"Yes, that would make my landlord so, so happy. Harry, come to mummy. Remus, maybe between the two of us we can manage a disentanglement charm."

They did, eventually, but by that time the palliative charms had faded somewhat and Fabian was looking quite pale as his brother carefully pulled his hand free. It was red where it had been lightly burned, but there was a small rend between two of his knuckles, skin split away and raised on either side of it and blood rolling along the contours of his fingers. Remus found himself simultaneously annoyed and sympathetic. Mostly annoyed. There had been a time when he'd been expected to fuss and lecture every time his fellow Marauders damaged themselves on a bit of Muggle technology (Remus and Lily, having at least partial Muggle parentage, had always been more well-versed in Muggle technology than the others); one instance jumped to mind of Sirius nearly getting his finger removed by a typewriter's carriage-return-mechanism and Remus scolding and then "kissing it better" when Sirius's grey eyes pleaded for comfort.

Remus quickly forced the memory away and watched as Lily finished up fixing the damaged hand.

"Righto," said Fabian once the traumatic experience was over (though he held the freshly healed appendage closer to his body, now). "I guess you lot are wondering exactly what two such strapping gents as us are doing here?"

"Order business?" asked Remus, checking the clock over the kitchen doorway.

The twins' smiles faltered slightly in unison. "...Yes," they chorused disappointedly.

Lily shifted Harry in her arms. Her hair looked unbrushed and a fine sheen of sweat was forming on her brow; Remus wondered if she had been running around all morning trying to keep the Prewetts out of trouble, though it had obviously culminated in Fabian's getting hurt. "Well, get on with it," she snapped. "I happen to be four hours late for work and I'm sure Remus would appreciate it if I was there for the latter half of the day."

"Ah, but that's exactly it, Lily." The twins grinned identically and straightened up, arms around each other's shoulders in a comic tableau. "Presenting the Prewett & Prewett Gallant Escort Company! _Two_ stunningly gorgeous young men ready to guard you wherever you want to go, twenty-four hours a day!"

"Bloody fuck." It did not seem to bother her that an impressionable child sat listening in her arms. "Dumbledore's sent us babysitters, then?"

"You don't have to put it so unpleasantly, but yes."

Remus folded his arms and eyed the pair critically. "Haven't you two got something more important to do for the Order?"

"Well, now that you mention it — "

" — issued an assignment last Tuesday — "

" — carried out with utmost efficiency, of course — "

" — well, semi-efficiency — "

" — completely botched it, if you want to know the truth — "

" — Dumbledore thinks we're better suited to more domestic faculties, anyway." Fabian rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, and Gideon glanced around as if surveying new property. "You know, keep ourselves and others out of harm's way."

"Apparently we do not meet the requirements of proper freedom fighters. Haven't got the 'attention span', according to Molly." They made simultaneous noises of disdain.

"But we make excellent house pets!"

"Great," said Lily, rolling her eyes. "My landlord will be thrilled if he finds out I'm housing two destructive full-grown men in this tiny apartment."

"You could let us out one at a time," suggested Gideon, and Fabian nodded enthusiastically. "Then he'll think you're only housing _one_ destructive full-grown man."

"Maybe one of them can stay at my place, and the other here," said Remus practically.

The twins stared at him in undisguised horror.

Remus amended himself with, "Or not." There were, after all, few things so sacred as the bond between identical twins; it only made sense that they'd want to know each other's whereabouts at almost all times. "You'd be able to fire that awful nanny," he added to Lily in an undertone. "You'd have two live-ins, and you'd only have to pay them in food and board."

"And possibly medical assistance." Fabian held up his freshly-healed hand to exemplify the statement. "If we get into any more fights with your bloody Muggle death traps, that is."

Lily sighed, then turned towards her two-year-old for consultation. "What do you think, Harry? Shall we keep the two imbeciles?"

They must have made a comic sight, four adult wizards standing around a placid little boy, watching him attentively - and in the twins' case, entreatingly - for guidance. It was as if the Godfather had shrunk and acquired a British accent and a childish slur. He watched them all with large green eyes, as if weighing the outcomes of his decision.

"Yus," he said at last, sagely, whereupon the Prewett twins cheered and clasped their hands together in triumph.

"Aha!"

"Can't deny young Mr. Potter — "

" — Evans — "

_" — Thatcher! — "_

" — his wish!"

" — We must do his bidding!"

" — All hail Harry Thatcher!"

" — Now where do you keep the booze?"

They rushed out of the room in search of intoxicants to celebrate their newfound usefulness. Remus threw Lily an exasperated glance before hurrying after them, trying not to think of times gone by, Prefectorial times, spent herding and scolding after troublemaking friends.

_"Oh, Merlin," _whispered Lily. She looked down accusingly at the little boy in her arms, who gave her a lopsided smile; a stunning impression of James, whenever he'd gotten his way.

* * *

**TBC...**

**A/N: ****Well, this'll be the last update for a while, as I'm leaving tomorrow for the Far East. *GONG* I hope you guys won't forget about me in the meantime.**

**And yes, I know this hasn't exactly answered any of the questions you guys seem to have about what exactly is going on in this story, but the chapter was quite a bit longer this time, wasn't it? So I hope it'll hold you over. Again, thanks so much, the reviews were loverly, and finding a few more when I return would be excellent incentive to continue... *HINT, HINT***

**So, until then, 再見! (Goodbye!)**


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